


Running to a standstill

by Amerna



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bearded Steve Rogers, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Christmas/holiday theme (if you squint), Coma, F/M, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8765113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amerna/pseuds/Amerna
Summary: If a lifetime of Hollywood movies taught Darcy anything, it’s that surprising professions of feelings, at the holiday party no less, probably caused by the spiked punch, are something that should not be taken seriously, not seriously at all. Especially not when he’s an Avenger, technically your boss, and you’ve been fighting with him for the better part of a year. And when he nearly gets himself killed the next day and you are not able to process the moment, it’s best to get over it ASAP.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> You can thank gingerlocks/forevergingeratheart for this. Originally, this was part of my prompts for her for the 2015 Steve/Darcy Christmas exchange, but she didn’t use it and was kind enough to hand it back to me.
> 
> Also, thanks to Katy, who didn’t laugh at me when I told her back in March that I’d started my Christmas story (yup, took me more than 6 months to finish it).

### Part I

Darcy joins the Avengers as their political expert shortly after the whole Ultron fiasco and is intent to get right to work, in one of the most interesting positions in the current political climate. Working in the same building as Jane once again is an additional bonus.

She moves into the facility without much fanfare, is assigned her quarters and her first few days pass in a flurry of introductions. She meets all the Avengers and related personnel she’s supposed to work with. Everybody is polite, nice, and assures her how much they look forward to working with her.

She’s a little star struck when she meets Captain America, but quickly gets over it. Which is for the better because as soon as they get to work, she and Captain America, they clash.

~*~

At first, it’s little things: policies Darcy wants to establish are questioned by him and half of them are vetoed without further comment. Darcy doesn’t think much of it at the beginning, thinks that they’ll all have to adjust to her presence and the changes that will follow.

Then she notices that the Captain purposefully keeps his distance. Darcy makes friends with all the other people at the facility just fine, except him. She pretends that it doesn’t irk her. And he’s technically her superior, maybe becoming friends with his subordinates is kind of not his thing.

Then, three weeks after she started, they have their first real argument. Darcy is trying to make the group a little more transparent, to show people that they are more than the larger than life superheroes, that they are all human underneath. She’s not even trying to force any public appearances – even though there have been plenty of enquiries – just trying to gauge the general feeling about it.

The Captain shuts her down immediately. “No,” he simply says, “we are not doing this.”

“But we could really use-”

“No,” he cuts her off. “We will not discuss this further at this point. We all value our privacy too much. And some here don’t want the additional scrutiny.”

Darcy notices that Wanda throws him a grateful look, but all the other Avengers pretty much remain neutral in this – something Darcy could work with under normal circumstances.

“Is there anything further you’d like to discuss? Otherwise I’m adjourning this meeting.”

Before Darcy can protest, the Avengers leap to their feet and file out of the conference room. The Captain is the last one to leave.

“Why?” Darcy simply asks, trying to swallow her disappointment.

He stops at the door and turns around to look at her.

“I don’t have to justify my actions.”

“You don’t, but I’d appreciate honest feedback.”

“Well, if you want me to be honest: I don’t like it. We’re a military unit, not a band trying to sell our album or an author promoting a new book. We work better in the shadows, away from the public eye.”

Darcy laughs humourlessly. “Why did you hire me then?”

“Tony hired you,” he points out and Darcy gets the feeling that the Captain might not have been okay with that decision. “And your expertise is in political science. You’ll figure it out.”

“I can’t believe you vetoed my idea without any further discussion. You of all people should know how important the public perception is. You’ve been a poster boy before,” Darcy sounds more abrasive than she intended.

He narrows his eyes at her. “Yes, I spent enough of my time as a dancing monkey already. It’s an experience I don’t want to repeat.”

“Maybe your team mates would-”

“I said no, Miss Lewis. You’ll have to accept that.”

“You don’t even allow the discussion? At all?”

“Being the leader of the Avengers comes with calling the shots and I’m vetoing your idea for now.”

~*~

Their next clash is over Darcy’s request to sit in in the control room.

She makes her case with Director Hill, because she’s in charge of the ground control and support, and while Maria seems inclined to allow Darcy to be there, much to her surprise, she refers her to the Captain for final approval. So Darcy stops by his office at the next opportunity and presents her idea.

“Director Hill said that she wouldn’t mind but that I’d need your permission.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And?” Darcy asks expectantly, when he doesn’t immediately answer.

“I’m not sure,” he says calmly.

Darcy is taken aback for a moment and frowns at him. “I assumed that it’s just a formality.”

“It’s not.”

Darcy’s frown deepens. “Why?”

“You’re an untrained civilian,” he tells her.

“Why does it matter?”

“It just does.”

“Well, it matters that I receive all the information that I need. How am I supposed to spin the news cycle in your favour when I only receive diluted information? I need it straight from the source.”

“I will consider it,” he says, effectively ending their discussion.

Darcy should chalk it up as a victory that he didn’t deny her request outright, but instead hangs out in Jane’s lab for a week and insists that she’s not sulking. “He disagrees with me on principle,” Darcy complains. “I can feel it.”

Jane looks up from her machinery, unimpressed.

“It’s like he doesn’t want me here at all. I wouldn’t be surprised if I he vetoed my employment to begin with.”

“That’s mean to think,” Jane gently admonishes her, “and you have absolutely no reason to believe that. I think he just wants everybody to be safe.”

In the end, he assigns a junior agent to be her handler (“A baby sitter!” Darcy complains to Jane) and for a few weeks Darcy learns all about troop movements and battle strategy and common vernacular used in the field. She refuses to admit that it helps her.

He also establishes a new policy that all civilian personnel on site will have to learn basic hand-to-hand skills and can, if desired, attend firearms lessons.

~*~

Darcy has to fight tooth and nail for six additional months to be allowed to sit in for post-mission debriefings.

~*~

At some point Darcy becomes so frustrated with his constant stonewalling, that she tells him frankly that sometimes she wants to punch him in the face.

He looks down at her entirely unimpressed, shakes his head in disbelief, turns on his heels and leaves without another word.

“You’re searching him out to argue with him,” Jane tells her afterwards.

“I am not!” Darcy immediately protests.

“And then you obsess about it. You know, if he’s so horrible, you could just leave, request a transfer, but you don’t. Deep down you’re enjoying this because he’s challenging you.”

~*~

And maybe she spends a little too much time thinking about him, but then he’s infuriating and incredibly difficult to read. He’s challenging her almost every step of the way, but he’s also a protective and inspiring leader to his team. Darcy notices this especially in the way he treats Wanda. They are in the common room one night watching a show, when he enters.

“Wanda,” he tells her, entirely ignoring Darcy, “I postponed the group exercise, but I want you to meet me for some individual training tomorrow morning at 8. I’ve thought of some further ridiculous ways for you to try out your powers on me that were inspired by Sam’s ribbing that he can fly and I can’t.” He smiles at her encouragingly.

Wanda just smiles softly and okays his plans before turning back to the screen.

“Miss Lewis,” he acknowledges her presence with a curt nod before he leaves.

Darcy narrows her eyes at his retreating form.

“How do you work with him?” she then asks Wanda when she’s sure that he’s out of earshot.

“He expects a lot, but he’s an effective leader and a good, generous teacher,” Wanda simply says and there’s nothing Darcy can argue against. It’s true, his leadership qualities are unparalleled. He leads by example, is the first on the front line and leaves no person behind. So far all the Avengers have returned with only minor scrapes and bruises, and civilian casualties during all their deployments have been kept to a minimum.

“And sometimes it’s really fun to work with him,” Wanda says with a secretive smile. “He knows how to get you, how to approach you so that you’ll improve.”

He’s friendly with all his teammates and treats the other staff on site with respect. And yes, even though they clash, they never argue about personal things, it’s always related to work. But Darcy cannot help but think that for some reason he dislikes her personally. She’s the one he treats so differently after all.

“Thankfully he doesn’t hold grudges. I’ve learned a lot from him. We all have.”

~*~

“What was that all about?” Natasha asks when Darcy runs into her after latest run-in with the Captain.

“Budgetary approval.”

Natasha lifts one eyebrow and the ends of her mouth quirk up a little. “You don’t even like budgeting discussions.”

“I was making a point. He was a hardass. This is a battle of wills and I am going to win.”

“You were just being contrary,” Nat points out calmly. “Sometimes I think you like fighting with him.”

Darcy narrows her eyes at her. “You watch too many Hollywood romances.”

Natasha laughs quietly and shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” She turns to leave. “Oh,” she adds like an afterthought, which Darcy would believe, if she didn’t know that Natasha’s statements are always well thought through and never an afterthought. “And whatever you think Steve thinks about you: You are wrong.”

~*~

Darcy nearly has a coronary when she’s finally briefed about the Bucky Barnes situation. That everybody involved also thinks that it’s not a big deal, incenses her even more. They’ve been treading on thin ice ever since the Ultron debacle and they just managed to gather a better standing in the world community thanks to their work in the past year. One careless, thoughtless decision could destroy it all.

“You can’t just harbour a fugitive and hope that eventually it’ll all go away!” Darcy is so exasperated that she’s close to yelling.

“It’s not up for discussion, Miss Lewis,” the Captain retorts immediately. He’s seething. “We will not let him become a political pawn. I will not allow it.”

“He already is one.”

“This is the one thing I will not compromise on. Tony hired you to work your magic. Work. Your. Magic.”

He turns around to leave.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Darcy yells after him, “if you think that your actions won’t have repercussions.”

He turns around, his stare cold, but Darcy is too enraged to stop. “You’re better off making this all public,” Darcy warns him. “You will regret this decision. They will come after you.”

“You can’t tell from my calm exterior,” he says bitingly, “but deep down I’m petrified.”

~*~

In the end the government forces their hand and the two of them to work together, so Darcy chalks this confrontation up as a draw. She gathers a little more understanding of him as a person – Bucky Barnes is his oldest friend after all so naturally he would be protective, maybe she overreacted and could’ve worded her disapproval more diplomatically – but she doesn’t forgive him for his methods. He challenges her suggestions every step of the way and they have a lot of vocal discussions just between the two of them while the other persons around, Avengers and civilians alike, quickly move out of the way, but in the end they compromise on a plan, which turns out to be successful.

~*~

Like all the other superheroes around with the exception of the Captain, Bucky Barnes takes to her immediately.

~*~

With her work becoming less of a political minefield once more and her status as a political advisor firmly established, Darcy’s work becomes easier. It only improves her relationship with the Captain marginally. He still questions most of her actions and makes her justify all of her decisions. They never return to their old hostility, but their encounters are still belligerent and heated.

~*~

Tony comes to visit and decrees that their annual holiday party will take place the next day, at the beginning of December. Thor is around for a visit, which is reason to celebrate all by itself, Tony claims, but then: Their past holiday parties shortly before many staff left to be with their families always got derailed by a one bad guy or another and they never actually had a holiday celebration together.

Darcy notices that the Captain is following her with his gaze but is determined to not let this affect her. She’s having fun; meets people she works with; spends time in Thor’s company. She has a little drink, but there’s the rumour that somebody spiked the punch, so Darcy stays away from it because she doesn’t want to cause a scene in a place that is still a work environment.

She’s talking to Bucky when she notices the Captain staring at her from across the room and huffs in annoyance. Bucky stares at her questioningly. “Maybe I shouldn’t be friends with you or something. Your bestie disapproves.” She makes a subtle gesture towards the Captain.

Bucky looks at her curiously for a moment. “Is that what you think?” he then asks in a tone she cannot quite place.

“Of course.”

“Oh boy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Bucky tells her, grins, takes a sip of his drink and then disappears into the crowd.

~*~

The good thing about the party on the premises is that Darcy just has to walk down two corridors to her quarters. She’s a little tipsy, but not drunk. At the corner, she stops, braces her hand against a wall, and takes off her heels. She stumbles for a moment over her own bare feet and suddenly the Captain is by her side and takes her arm. His hands are warm and callused, Darcy notices, a little irritated at her own thoughts, before he lets go.

He just walks next to her in silence and Darcy throws him a questioning look, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he just accompanies her to her door and Darcy is too tired to argue.

She fumbles with her key card at the entrance to her quarters, swipes it once, twice, but the door doesn’t open. He takes it from her, reaches around her, swipes it once and it opens.

Darcy turns around and looks up at him. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

“You’re welcome,” he answers softly.

The moment between them stretches, he stares at her intently and Darcy feels a little lightheaded, her tiredness momentarily forgotten.

“I should go to bed.” Darcy points at her living quarters behind her.

“Yes.”

They both don’t move.

“I meant to tell you: You’ve done good work. With Bucky,” he tells her, “and all the other things too.”

“Thanks,” Darcy manages to say.

He nods curtly and Darcy thinks that this is the moment where he will leave and either go back to the party or to his own quarters.

“You’re really attractive,” he says out of the blue. “And dangerous.”

Darcy looks up at him in surprise. “Are you trying to mess with me, Captain?”

“No,” he says honestly, “that’s not what it is.”

Darcy can feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “You don’t like me,” Darcy points out, but it sounds weak to her ears. “There’s this personal feud we have.”

“No, Darcy,” his voice drops low and stares at her intently, “that is entirely not personal.”

In the back of her mind Darcy idly wonders what made him behave this way. She knows that she’s a little tipsy but everybody on base and beyond knows that alcohol has no effect on Captain America. Maybe somebody spiked the punch with something stronger.

“You’re technically my boss.”

He snorts at that. “Not technically, _actually_. And we both know that these things don’t really matter to you. You called me an idiot.”

“No, I called you a fucking idiot.”

“And I didn’t fire you. And you still haven’t handed in your resignation.”

“You sound like Jane. She always says that deep down I’m enjoying this. Nat too.”

“Are you?”

He braces one arm on the wall next to her head and towers over her. Without her shoes, he stands even taller above her. He is so close that Darcy can feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes are incredibly blue. Darcy thinks that she should push him away. She doesn’t enjoy any of this and she doesn’t like him, but in this instance, she has trouble to remember why. His gaze falls from her eyes to her lips. Darcy licks them involuntarily.

“This is not a good idea,” she says quietly.

“It isn’t,” he agrees, but doesn’t back down.

“You really should leave.”

“Yes, I should.” But he doesn’t; instead he moves closer, bending his head. He only has to close the small gap between them to kiss her and in this particular moment, Darcy really, really wants him to. She moves to stand on her tiptoes and he moves even closer.

They hear loud voices on the other end of the hallway, the sound of broken glass and then laughter, and the moment is broken. He takes a step back and drags a hand through his hair, then breathes deeply.

“I’ll just pretend it never happened in the morning,” Darcy says when the moment between them becomes awkward.

A flash of annoyance passes his face and for a moment Darcy thinks that he will say something biting in return. Instead he stares at her for a long moment. “Good night, Darcy,” he says before turning around and walking down the hallway and out of her sight.

~*~

In the morning Darcy isn’t sure what to do. She said she would pretend that it never happened, but maybe she should search him out and talk? Whatever happened between them was… weird.

The decision is taken from her because Maria tells her first thing that the Avengers were deployed on a mission early in the morning und are en route to Lapland.

Darcy sits in the control room as usual and for a while it seems like their ordinary run-off-the-mill mission that will be won easily and probably not make any waves the next few days or weeks. But then Darcy notices that an analyst moves up to Director Hill and tells her something in hushed tones. A crease forms on Maria’s brow and she has the analyst confirm one more time before she contacts the team.

“Captain, this is base, another battalion is headed your way. ETA ten minutes. They’re armed heavily and pose a threat to the success of the mission.”

“Repeat dispatch,” the Captain orders.

“You have more incoming. The original information was bad. There’s a whole battalion coming your way. You’re going to be outnumbered 50 to 1 at least.”

The Captain swears loudly and colourfully and then gives orders to the team to adjust their strategy. The room is filled with the sound of gunfire, explosions, and people screaming, but in between the Avengers sound calm and collected and it looks like they’ll pull through – at least until backup arrives.

~*~

They don’t notice the Captain’s absence at first.

“Steve, where is Steve?” Bucky can be heard over comms.

“Nat, do you have eyes on Rogers?” Sam asks.

“Negative.”

“He was just there,” Wanda says. “On the roof.”

“Captain,” Maria tries contacting him via comms, “do you copy? Captain, this is base. Do you copy?”

“Base, do you have the Captain?” Nat asks.

“Negative, he’s unresponsive.”

They defeat the bad guys soon after and try getting a hold of Captain Rogers, but he remains silent. When they are all done with the mission, they have to form a search party.

~*~

He was knocked out and then submerged into ice water. By the time Sam finds him, the Captain is pale, blue, and unresponsive and the nasty head wound is still open and oozing blood. Darcy follows all this from the control room. It’s one of the worst moments in her life. She can feel the horror that’s mounting even though all she has are the Avenger’s messages via their comm units. They try to remain calm and professional, but Darcy can tell from their spoken words – and from the silence – that the situation is dire.

The next hours are a blur. Darcy is tasked to contact Tony to call in a favour and for him to pull some strings. When the quinjet comes in, one of the world’s best neurosurgeons is waiting on the landing bay, fully briefed by Helen Cho. They take CT scans and then rush him into surgery to take care of his extensive head trauma and try to relieve the brain swelling. The operation takes almost 11 hours and time at the base pretty much stands still. All the Avengers are assembled at the medical facility. They are in the waiting area and are eerily quiet. Darcy checks up on them every now and then, but otherwise stays away. Maria gives her and the other support team regular status updates via Friday.

The surgeon comes out of the surgery mildly optimistic. He announces that Captain Rogers will hopefully, probably make a full recovery, but they’ll know more once he wakes up. He estimates that he’ll be out for 24 hours. Helen estimates that it’ll be less considering his healing abilities.

But the Captain doesn’t wake up. Not after 24 hours, not after 48 hours. He doesn’t wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My prompt last year was: One of them is in a coma and the other person decorates their hospital room. In retrospect I understand that it’s not the most cheerful prompt for a holiday exchange ;o) Also means: Yes, Steve is going to wake up eventually.


	2. Part II

### Part II

The doctors are mystified. By all means he should wake up. There’s normal brain activity, he has no other ailments, all tests come back negative. They fly in various specialists, but there are no further developments. He doesn’t regain consciousness.

The Avengers wait for him to wake up for three days, then they can’t bear it any longer and go for a well-known treatment: distraction. They lay waste to their enemies; they scorch the earth, burn their enemies to the ground and take every mission, no matter how insignificant, while their usually fearless leader is out.

Thor is ordered back to Asgard on urgent business as well.

Which means that the Captain’s friends, his makeshift family, are barely by his side.

Darcy meanwhile keeps busy, everything to distract her from her own thoughts. She has plenty to do to fend off the enquires about Captain Rogers’ physical state and to silence all rumours about contingency plans with Captain America being out.

She manages well, but then, one night, a week after his accident, when Darcy is high on energy drinks and sugar and unable to sleep, her feet carry her to the medical facility in the middle of the night on their own volition.

The facility is monitored closely and the part that’s dedicated to treating the Avengers requires special authorization that’s monitored by Friday. Darcy hopes that her credentials will be enough. She never needed them before. She sneaks in, waves her access card in front of the reader, it makes a comforting beeping sound, and the door opens. Darcy lets out a sigh of relief and makes for his room.

She stops at the doorstep and gasps. She’d never thought she would see him that way. Captain America. Defeated.

They’d had to shave his head for the surgery, the scars have long disappeared thanks to the serum and a blond fuzz has started to appear already. His facial hair has grown as well. His eyes are taped shut. His chest rises and falls in regular intervals, but Darcy notices that he’s on a ventilator. The only sound in the room is the regular beeping of the machinery.

She stares at him for a long moment.

She thought he disliked her. How could she have been so mistaken? And now everything is in limbo.

She shakes her head as if to get rid of the thought and turns around quickly, moving towards the exit. This is not her place, she has no right to be here, they are not even friends. He will wake up soon enough and everything will be forgotten.

~*~

Darcy feels so ridiculous that she avoids the medical facility like the plague for an entire week.

~*~

It’s another late night when she stops by his room again. The Avengers have been out for five days and Darcy somehow feels alone and restless. There have been no new developments, no changes to Captain Rogers’ physical state, and Darcy realises that with the Avengers being out he has probably been abandoned as well. No Avengers means few visitors to his room – if any – and that doesn’t feel right somehow. She sneaks past the nurses and the medical staff on duty and makes for his room. This time she makes a cautious step into the room and then stops.

She has no idea what she’s supposed to do. She still feels ridiculous. A lifetime of cheesy Hollywood movies taught her that talking might help, but that’s just absurd. And what would she tell him anyway? Except that one time which she’s trying very hard to forget all their conversations pretty much ended in a fight.

God, she feels pathetic. She should just stay away. He is nothing to her and she probably means nothing to him. Whatever he told her at the holiday party meant nothing. It had probably been a horrible misunderstanding, a prank maybe. He didn’t like her and was trying to mess with her. The punch had been spiked and that had just been the alcohol speaking.

So she just stands in his room, unsure, moving from one foot to another, and she realises how bleak and sterile it looks.

With a sudden idea in her head she marches back to the facility, fishes the holiday decoration out of storage – for obvious reasons nobody had been in a festive mood or in a mood to decorate – and starts decorating his room. When she’s done, when she’s satisfied with her work, she falls into the visitor’s chair and looks at him for a long moment.

She must’ve fallen asleep because she is softly shaken awake by a nurse a few hours later. When Darcy comes to and realises what happened, she blushes beet red and begins apologising profusely, but the nurse doesn’t want to hear any of it.

“It’s nice that he has visitors,” she says. “He’s been alone a lot these past few days, the only people that come in are doctors to perform more tests. Doctor Cho is probably his most frequent visitor. Are you two close?”

Darcy knows that the nurse – her name tag identifies her as Zelda – is trying to gauge the status of their relationship, whether she has to deal with a heartbroken girlfriend or a weird stalker or something else entirely. She knows that Darcy is not a threat, has the appropriate access rights, because she made it to the room without setting off any alarms.

“No,” Darcy assures her quickly, “Captain Rogers and I, we’re not close. Not at all. Technically he’s my boss I guess? I work with the Avengers. I’m not some lovelorn girl who’s slipping into her unrequited crush’s room. But I feel sorry for him. He’s alone, you know. I know how pathetic that sounds.”

“It doesn’t. We sometimes stop by to cheer him up. But it gets difficult.”

“How do you cheer up a coma patient?”

“Talk to him, squeeze his hand, just little things to let him know that somebody is there.”

“I thought that’s what Hollywood romances tell you to do?”

Zelda shrugs. “Yeah, it sounds ridiculous, but coma patients… it’s hard to figure out what works and they mostly cannot tell you what made them wake up after the fact. So, I’m guessing that every little thing helps.”

Darcy nods and gets up. “I better be going,” she says. “This is really not my place to stay.”

Zelda smiles at her encouragingly. “But you came, that’s nice, and like I said: every little thing helps. Feel free to stop by again. We don’t have fixed visiting hours, so whenever you have some time… also, I’m on night duty for the rest of the week.”

~*~

Two days later Darcy marches into his room, book in hand. She becomes a frequent visitor. A week later all the nurses greet her by name. She doesn’t always read to him. Sometimes she just sits, does nothing, works, reads quietly for herself.

Christmas comes and goes without any change to his state.

There are barely any festivities. The few staff that remains on base during the holidays and doesn’t leave to be with their family is not really in the mood to celebrate. Darcy celebrates almost alone with only Jane, Erik, Maria, and Helen. If Helen heard anything about Darcy’s late night visits to the medial centre, she doesn’t let her knowledge show. The Avengers are gone almost non-stop, they make a quick stop at the facility on December 26, but are gone again within hours.

He’s still asleep at New Year’s.

So far nobody has caught Darcy sneaking in to visit him. And somehow nobody outside the night nurses on duty has caught up on it either. Darcy is grateful that there is no gossip she might have to deal with. She isn’t sure how she would explain her regular presence in his room to the general populace to begin with. And nobody on base expects her to do it anyway. Their general dislike of each other is well known.

~*~

“Hey Darcy, you’re late today,” Zelda greets her at the entrance.

Darcy sighs. “I’ve been really busy today. I wasn’t sure if I’d make it. Any new developments?”

Darcy asks every time, but the answer is always the same. Zelda shakes her head, dejected. “No, his state is unchanged.”

“Has anybody else stopped by?”

“No, not today. They must still be out avenging stuff.”

Darcy hums in understanding.

“They all cope on their own terms, you know,” Zelda adds quietly. “His friend, Bucky, drops by every time they’re on base. He sneaks in like you did in the beginning, and tries not to be seen. He thinks we don’t notice, but we do. The visitor’s chair has been moved. And you know that the tape from his eyes is gone. That was the Black Widow the other day. She removed it because she said that it will help him wake up. She was both gentle and terrifying. And then that Maximoff kid… I wasn’t there for it, but the doctors said that she tried to use her powers to reach him, to enter his mind, but it didn’t work. We don’t know what she saw, but she broke down crying and hasn’t been back since.”

“Yeah,” Darcy says, “they’re his friends, his family. It’s really hard on them. You can’t blame them for their actions.”

They are silent for a moment. “So are you still going to read to him?” Zelda then asks. “Or are you just going to sit with him today after the day you’ve had?”

“I don’t know,” Darcy shrugs, “but I brought Anne of Green Gables.” Darcy holds up the book in her hand.

“Good choice!” Zelda nods approvingly. “But I thought we’d only go with books published after 1945?”

“Yeah, I’m making an exception from the rule. It was either this or Pride and Prejudice. I was in a mood.”

“Are you still taking suggestions?” a second nurse, Frida, stops next to Darcy.

“I am. But I’ve decided that we are waiting with Americanah until he wakes up.”

“It’s gonna blow his mind.” Frida grins.

They stop at the nurse’s station and Darcy makes her way into the hospital room alone.

“Hey Steve,” Darcy addresses the unmoving figure on the bed and pats his hand, then squeezes it lightly. Darcy wonders why his hands are always warm. He is always warm. “How’ve you been? Sorry, I’m late, but there was some stuff I had to deal with… But you don’t want to know about my work anyway.” Darcy grins self-deprecatingly, then goes to move the comfy visitor’s chair next to the bed to sit down. “I brought you something new today, I think you’d like it. It’s a favourite of mine.” Darcy takes a deep breath. “‘Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies’ eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place.’”

Darcy’s voice was the only sound in the room except for the constant beeping of the vital monitors and the soft pumping of the ventilator.

~*~

“You know,” Darcy says conversationally a week later, “you can take me out or something to say thank you for my charming company. If you wake up. When you wake up,” she corrects herself immediately. “Coffee would be nice, I think. Not that I drink coffee, but I can have hot chocolate or tea.”

Darcy waits for a moment.

“If this was a Hollywood movie, now would be the time for you to wake up and tell me that you heard everything and that I brought you back to life,” Darcy tries to joke, but it sounds flat even to her own ears.

~*~

“So, I’m taking down the decorations, because the holidays are over. Don’t worry, I’m keeping your Christmas stocking for when you wake up.” Darcy looks around for a moment. “But now this room looks really bleak. We should probably do something about that. Maybe some kid’s drawings from your fan mail… Or I’ll ask Friday if you have a favourite red white and blue blanket or something.”

“So this is where you sneak off to.”

Darcy wheels around and sees Jane standing in the doorway. Darcy stares at her and then blushes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Decorating.” Darcy knows that it’s a terrible excuse and not really what Jane asked.

“No, what are you doing here at all? And you were talking to him?”

“Well, all the Hollywood chick flicks tell you that talking helps, right?” Darcy shrugs it off like it’s not a big deal and still hasn’t answered Jane’s original question.

“But what are you doing in his room to begin with? You don’t like him!”

“You’d think me so mean that I’d want Steve to die?” Darcy hedges.

Jane takes a deep breath. “You know that’s not what I’m saying,” she then says patiently. “I was just surprised that this is where you go when I can’t find you. Why do you come here? Also: ‘Steve’?”

“You saw me sneak out?” Darcy deflects.

“Yeah, of course. You’d be gone for hours on time at night and I didn’t know where to find you. I tried to figure out if you had a new hobby or a new boyfriend, but nothing else changed. Except the melancholy. But then: we have all been in better spirits. So, stop deflecting and tell me why you come here.”

Darcy shrugs, then looks at Steve and back at Jane again. “I don’t know, I just… he was alone and I felt sorry for him.”

Jane frowns at her, so Darcy elaborates: “All the other Avengers were gone and he was alone and I went here one night and he looks so… defeated. He doesn’t deserve this. And I’m reconsidering my initial impression of him.”

Jane hums thoughtfully. “And that’s all there is?”

For a moment Darcy is tempted to tell Jane everything, but then she’s grown so comfortable with ignoring the elephant in the room so she decides against it. “That’s all there is.”

~*~

Two days later Darcy is working quietly by Steve’s bedside. Her feet are propped up on the edge of the bed. She’s balancing her laptop on her thighs and is doing research and answering her emails. She’s absorbed in her work, but it’s like something in the room shifts and she notices the change in his breathing.

When Darcy looks up, she sees that his eyes open, he’s looking at her. She’s paralysed for a moment and thinks that she might’ve fallen asleep in his room again and is now dreaming.

Then he makes a choking sound and struggles against the tube in his throat and Darcy stares at him for a second before she drops her stuff and yells. Zelda comes rushing in within seconds shortly followed by the doctor on call and they try to calm him down. He’s still choking against the tube and the seconds before they can get it out feel like an eternity. More medical personnel rushes into the room and Darcy is pushed against the wall, out of the way. Steve follows her with his gaze the entire time. Their eyes meet and he stares at her, wide-eyed, disoriented, and she’s about to say something but then the doctor blocks the view.

And Darcy runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell: I’m not a doctor, so the medical practices in this are very, very questionable. Google told me that mostly people don't just "wake up" from a coma, but reality was, for dramatic purposes, not possible to follow ;o)
> 
> And the other extent of my research was basically: Does facial hair grow during a coma? Answer on Yahoo answers or something (a _very_ reputable source): it does.


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to mention (and for you as a visual aid): Steve is bearded and has very short hair a la Chris Evans during the first Avengers press tour. It’s the second time this year that I’ve done that treatment to him (but the other story on that is lightyears away from being finished).

### Part III

Darcy rushes back to her apartment and speaks to no one. She has to process everything first. She doesn’t tell anybody that she was there when he woke up and thankfully none of the nurses or doctors seem to mention it.

News about the Captain finally waking up spread across the base in record time.

Jane stops by a few hours later to tell her but Darcy just says that she already knows. Jane throws her a questioning look but doesn’t say anything further.

Darcy stays away during his entire recovery. Sure, news about every little development make their rounds quickly throughout the whole base. He starts talking the next day but is still disoriented. Soon they are flying in a physical therapist to help him start walking again. The serum does the rest. After just two weeks he’s released from the medical facility and moves back to his own quarters with Bucky taking care of him.

Darcy successfully avoids Captain America for three weeks after that.

~*~

The team is once again on a mission and Darcy wanders around the base aimlessly. She no longer spends the time in the control room; it’s making her anxious somehow, to have the team there without its Captain. For some reason he was always such a calming presence during missions. Darcy only realised this after he was no longer there. When he was with them, nothing would happen. But he’s still on leave for whatever reason. Darcy heard that he’s fully recovered – at least physically – and people are starting to wonder what’s keeping him from going out and saving the world once again. People are starting to mention that two weeks after they found him in the arctic, he was fighting the Chitauri in New York, so staying away this long after a “mere coma of six weeks” seems out of character.

Darcy does what she does best: She shuts all the public speculation down quickly and efficiently, mostly with a very pointed remark that everybody recovers from trauma in their own way. However, she doesn’t know what keeps him from active duty and it’s not her place to ask. Not that she could anyway, she hasn’t seen him since the day he woke up and is very intentionally keeping her distance.

That’s when she walks in on him. He’s in the common area the first time in weeks, reading. Darcy stops short and considers turning around but then thinks better of it because he must’ve noticed her, so her behaviour would either be embarrassing or offensive. She mumbles an awkward greeting and scurries over towards the kitchen area, avoiding him.

It is strange, seeing him this way. His hair is still too short and he hasn’t shorn off his beard. His facial hair had continued to grow during his coma and for some reason Darcy thought that he would shave it off at his first opportunity to move back to the status quo, at least somewhat. He hasn’t. He looks very strange, not like Captain America at all.

When she dares to look back at him she notices that he stopped reading and is looking at her intently, with a slight frown on his face. It makes her nervous somehow and she asks herself how much he remembers. If this were a Hollywood movie, he’d remember every little thing that she told him and had fallen in love during his coma with her somehow and would now declare his undying love. It’s an entirely ridiculous thought and she shakes her head as if to get rid of it. That’s not what she wants anyway.

But then she remembers how they parted, what they said to each other the night of the holiday party and that he probably remembers that and her heart starts beating wildly. That’s probably why he looks at her so weirdly. She should’ve prepared for that but somehow she forgot. Or not forgot, she chose to ignore it, ignore everything.

“What are you reading?” Darcy asks into the silence in the room to pre-empt any awkward questions from him.

He holds up his book. “Americanah. One of the nurses gave it to me.”

“Oh.” Darcy is sure that it was Frida who told him because she knew that Darcy planned to read it to him. She wonders if Frida told him anything else.

“Yeah, I’m reading a lot. I’m still not back on rotation. And Bucky is going all mother hen on me,” he says with a self-deprecating smile.

“For good reason. We were all afraid for your life.”

“Were you?”

“Sure, you were out for over a month.” Darcy bites her lips, unsure what to say. She’s not bringing up that she spent a lot of time with him during that month. She wonders how much he knows, how much the medical staff told him about his time in coma.

She motions towards the door with her thumb. “Well, I’ll better be going,” she says awkwardly. “I hope you get well-”

“Wait,” he interrupts her, lays down his book and gets up. Darcy takes a deep breath and then goes for what she hopes is an impassive facial expression.

He comes standing in front of her and makes a cut-off motion and Darcy realises that he wanted to drag his hand through his hair, maybe in frustration, but that the hair is no longer there and he probably feels ridiculous. He settles for awkwardly scratching his beard instead.

“Look,” he stares at her intently and Darcy is frozen to the spot, “everything is kind of a blur, starting from the day of the holiday party until three days after I woke up, but… Did I… I think I… Look…”

He takes a deep breath and doesn’t say anything for a moment and he looks so wretched that Darcy thinks she might need to go in for the mercy kill. She can tell him everything and pretend it’s not a big deal. And it shouldn’t be a big deal. Whatever happened between them that night meant nothing. It was a momentary lapse of judgement. And she hopes that he doesn’t know that she kind of sat vigil by his beside. At the same time, she wants to kick herself because she should’ve prepared for the eventuality anyway. She knew that they couldn’t avoid the elephant in the room forever. Captain America, after all, isn’t a coward.

“Were you there when I woke up?” he asks quietly.

Darcy stares at him because she didn’t expect _that_. “Oh…” she says, surprised. “Yes. I was.”

He looks stunned by her admission for a moment. “Why?” he then asks, sounding confused.

“Because I didn’t want you to be alone,” Darcy says, surprising herself with her honesty.

“Oh.” He mulls over that for a moment and Darcy wishes that he’d say something more because the silence becomes uncomfortable.

“Nobody was there…” she blurts out when it becomes unbearable, “your friends, they were all doing their best… coping in their own way. I mean, they came to visit in between missions, but most of them kept busy, distracted themselves with work. So I thought… I thought somebody should keep you company.”

He visibly struggles with that information for a bit. “Thank you,” he then says.

“You’re welcome,” Darcy simply answers.

When he doesn’t say anything further, she turns around and moves for the door once more.

“I’m struggling,” he says honestly, much to her surprise, and Darcy turns back around to look at him. He’s not looking at her, he’s staring at his feet. “The last time I… woke up, it was almost 70 years in the future and now it’s only a few weeks, but… the fear was there… will always be there. So, thanks for being there when I woke up. Because it rooted me to the present. You were a familiar face and I knew that I hadn’t missed a couple of years or maybe even the entire 21st century.”

Darcy stares at him, unsure what to say. She never considered that, hadn’t even thought of that because he seems so well adjusted by now and nobody talks about “Captain Rogers 70-year nap”. But it makes sense, horribly so.

“And like I said, I don’t remember much from the 24 hours before my accident, but I remember drowning in ice cold water, once again and that-” he takes a deep breath, “that makes it so pervasive.”

Darcy stares at him open-mouthed, unsure what to say and he finally looks up. He manages a self-deprecating smile and tries to shrug it off. “Sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to blurt this all out. I-”

“Nononono,” Darcy immediately rushes to assure him that she doesn’t mind, “don’t be. I can’t really, I hadn’t-” she stumbles over her words and takes a calming breath. “I’d never even thought of that and I’m sorry you had to experience it once again. Being there wasn’t really… it was not a big deal and I’m glad that I could help, even a little.”

He doesn’t answer, instead he grabs his book and moves towards her, towards the door. He stops to stand next to her, but doesn’t look at her. He stares straight ahead into the middle distance. “I know that we didn’t really see eye to eye… before and that you disliked me a lot, so thanks for being there, for being here.”

And before Darcy can say anything further, he’s gone.

~*~

They don’t talk much after that. He decides to be put back on duty two weeks later and they only deal with each other in a professional function. But there’s a marked difference now. Where they were always arguing and discussing before, they are now courteous, polite, distanced. He doesn’t challenge her any more, instead defers to her opinions and moves on. Nobody questions her or her expertise any longer.

This should be everything Darcy wanted. He relented and she doesn’t have to adjust anything. If she were still thinking about this as some kind of contest of wills, then she definitely won.

Darcy hates it.

It’s Jane who brings it up a few days later.

“You and Steve, you’re both being weird,” she tells Darcy in blunt honesty. “What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing,” Darcy claims immediately. “Nothing is going on.”

“Is that the problem?” Jane asks and Darcy realises that yes, that’s kind of the problem.

She lets her head fall onto her desk and groans. “Why can’t things just be like they were before?” she whines.

“Well, obviously, nobody here misses the screaming matches and you threatening physical violence that one time,” Jane teases. “But the way you’re behaving now is even more off-putting. Is it about you sitting vigil at his bedside?”

“I don’t think he knows about that,” Darcy says, “well, he doesn’t know _all_ about that. He knows that I was there when he woke up and he thanked me for being there.”

“You were there when he woke up?” Jane asks, surprised, and Darcy realises that she never told anybody about it.

“Yes, I was. But it’s not a big deal.” She tries to shrug it off. “Like I said: He said thank you and that’s it.”

Jane looks at her like she doesn’t entirely believe her, but then decides not to press that issue. “So why are you avoiding each other? Why are you treating the other differently?”

“I don’t know about him, maybe he’s just turning over a new leaf... a near-death experience might do that to you.”

“And you?”

Darcy takes a deep breath. “Remember when you caught me decorating Steve’s room and I told you that I was simply revisiting my initial impression of him?”

“Yes,” Jane says, “you felt sorry for him and the coma made you re-examine your initial judgement.”

“It’s not only the coma. There was a… _moment_ during the holiday party. The day before his accident.”

“A moment?” Jane repeats, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“We almost made out in front of my apartment,” Darcy lets out in a rush.

“Darcy!”

“And he said some things and I really wanted him to kiss me and...” Darcy trails off.

“And you never processed that moment and feel that now it’s too late?”

“Yes! He kind of disappeared within hours on that fateful mission and then he was in a frickin’ coma and we all thought that the might die… never wake up, so-”

“Have you tried talking to him afterwards? Now?”

Darcy shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t remember. We talked once afterwards and he mentioned offhandedly that he basically has no recollection of the 24 hours before his accident.”

“Convenient for him,” Jane comments. “You mentioned he said something to you. Did he confess his undying love for you or something? Maybe it’s something you should talk to him about. Those feelings don’t go away just because of a coma.”

“He’s so changed now and maybe it was just a momentary lapse of judgement that night and I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”

“Darcy, it’s already as awkward as it can get,” Jane points out. “And the… pining doesn’t really help.”

“I’m trying to get over it, okay?”

Jane looks at her like she doesn’t believe her at all.

“He’s clearly trying to turn over a new leaf and so am I, so maybe, at some point, we can become friends.”

~*~

He searches her out in her office two weeks later. Darcy is confused for a moment, because he has no reason to be there and he’s never stopped by her office before. He remains standing in the door, leaning against the doorway, looking at her intently for a moment. Then she notices that he’s nervously fiddling with his hands.

She frowns at him. “Can I help you?”

“Our friends noticed that we are no longer yelling at each other and Natasha is threatening an intervention.”

“Why’s that? I thought they’d be glad that we’ve turned over a new leaf and all. Maybe at some point we’ll even be friends.”

He looks at her strangely for a moment, then moves to sit down in her visitor’s chair. He seems really nervous now.

“Well, the truth is: I’ve been avoiding you. And I gathered that you’ve probably been avoiding me too.”

“Oh,” Darcy says dumbly.

“And I think I know why that is: I have this one memory from the holiday party and at first I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me and all because everything is really fuzzy but-” He stops to stare at her and takes a deep breath. “Did I almost kiss you that night?”

There is no reason for Darcy to beat around the bush any longer. In a way she’s glad that they are clearing the air. Even though she wonders what will come out of it. “Yes, you did,” she answers honestly.

“I’m sor-” he immediately begins to apologise.

“Don’t be sorry. I wanted you to.”

His mouth falls open in surprise. “You- you did? I thought you didn’t like me.”

“Look who’s talking.”

He blushes at that and Darcy finds that weirdly adorable. She’s never seen him flustered before. But then, she had trouble picturing him… human before. “It’s not that. I just… we had our professional differences and I tried to keep my distance, but…” he trails off. “You’re intelligent and kind and funny and passionate and gorgeous and you were wearing this stunning blue dress and then Bucky and Sam egged me on…”

Darcy gapes at him for a moment. “You’re a fucking idiot,” she then tells him but this time there’s no venom behind it. “And, as it seems, absolutely hopeless with women.”

“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck and grimaces.

“Pulling a girl’s pigtails because you don’t know how to express your feelings is the worst,” Darcy can’t help but lecture. “The worst.”

“I didn’t do it for that,” he immediately denies. “Honestly,” he adds, when he sees Darcy’s doubting gaze. “I was a little miffed when Tony hired you without my consent, but that wore off quickly. I expect a lot from my people, from all of them. I’m challenging all of them in different ways. Your arguments and ideas were good, but not perfect, sometimes they needed more detail or more perspective… I figured that I improved at least some of your work, some of your positions. I didn’t fight with you just because. Like I said: It was never anything personal.” He takes a deep breath. “And then that night I didn’t want to make a pass on you, I knew that I wasn’t your favourite person, but you were irresistible…”

Darcy hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything further. It’s true that his constant questioning and challenging has made her better at her work, made her rethink and rework some of her arguments for the better, led her to think about angles she never considered before. His tactic in that regard definitely worked. That’s the thing she misses mostly these days, the arguments. Still, she figures that it could’ve proceeded with less heat and stubbornness, but then… maybe that was all her.

When she looks back at him, he just shrugs and has the decency to look a little apologetic. Darcy half expects him to say something more, but he doesn’t. Instead he gets up and moves towards the door to leave.

“I have to say, you were driving me crazy all this time – and not of the good kind,” she says conversationally, making him turn around to look at her. “But I don’t think that you’re a terrible person. Not anymore that is.” He looks at her questioningly. “So if you were planning to ask me out properly at some point, I’d say yes.”

A slow grin spreads across his face. “I would ask you out for coffee, but I somehow know you don’t drink it, so… Hot chocolate maybe?”

“Okay.” Darcy nods and pretends to be all business-like, but she feels giddy and a little lightheaded. “Under one condition.”

He frowns at her, adorably confused. “Which is?”

“I waited almost four months for the resolution, so next time we have a moment in front of my apartment, please kiss me.”

He stares at her so intently that Darcy blushes. “Trust me,” he promises, his voice low. “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys!


End file.
